


Demons

by properlycolorful



Category: Sleigh Bells (Band)
Genre: F/M, Mild Dissociative Identity Disorder, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 03:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/properlycolorful/pseuds/properlycolorful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Treats is in the works, Alexis meets Izzy. She alters any sense of sanity and fogs the world around her, while Derek seems to be the only one who coordinates her once she's spun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Demons

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me if the characters sound OOC, this is my first Sleigh Bells fic and I wanted to do something different. Also, you shouldn't evaluate me on a medical term, because I hardly wrote this fic in a medical sense. But anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, spread me some constructive critism if you like.

Sleigh Bells is a success.

 

Alexis finds that she's off and out of reality the whole way through this whole thing, trying to suck this all in, but the band―nevertheless―is sticking.

 

She tries not to let her heart skip to the entire craze, but she's tugging on her jacket most of the time anyway.

 

She makes the most out of it though, just like her mom told her to. She plays a character and she lets her insanity get the best of her. Normally, Alexis doesn't follow the green fog; she isn't that kind of a person to be so senseless. Except, with music, she's got this strange lack of self-control and she can't help whenever she lets her out.

 

She can't help when she lets Izzy—that person inside of her who's insane and crazy, who drives her into frenzy—she can't control when she opens the cage.

 

It gets scary sometimes though, a little f _reaky_.

 

**::**

 

Izzy likes to drink, a lot.

 

She somehow manages to make Alex drink fifteen bottles of beer and not know a single thing about it. In the mixture of drunkenness and slurred sentences, she's not herself. Izzy's got full control of her like she's a puppet case. The insanity tugs on her strings—and she doesn't have any consciousness—leading her to succumb. She's a toy, a ridiculous little toy.

 

Somewhere in the chaos and the fog, Derek offers her a beer and she says yes. He gets a little worried, because she's his best friend, and he never likes to see her get lost in the void. She smiles at him sweetly though, innocently like a child, and takes the beer in her hand. "I'm fine, don’t worry about it." Her voice is as soft as his hand on her shoulder.

 

It's cold and gold—the beer—and Izzy loves it.

 

She doesn't do anything too crazy, not at all. She knows that however control she has, Alex still decides whether to place the strings on. It—Izzy—knows that if she wants to continue doing whatever the hell she wants, she's got to start slow. She's got to start easy.

 

_She's got to start effectively._

 

**::**

 

Alexis was born in a small, empty town.

 

She had Barbie dolls, Strawberry Shortcake bed sheets, and Spice Girls posters. Her grades were remarkably high—mad genius high—and she hardly ever went out of line. There wasn't a single wrong gene in her, and most parents would say it outright. She was a miracle; a child intact with no flaws and no screws. Teachers saw high hopes for her, she was perfect.

 

She _was_ perfect.

 

Somehow, time passes, and she felt some kind of a screw missing, an itch. She never paid much attention, because she knew what she wanted to do and who she wanted to be. Her job was great, and the smiles of her students' day in and day out made her happier than anything else. But, there's that itch, every single day in the bottom of her stomach and it grows.

 

Eventually she meets Derek, his ambitions and his strange sense of direction dazzles her that afternoon. Her mom blurts how Alexis loves to sing and urges her before she can deny, but she already knows that Alexis wants it and she won't dare take the smile off her face as it happens. She thinks Alexis has already paid her dues, life's hers now.

 

_(If only she knew it was Izzy's now.)_

 

**::**

 

Alexis meets Todd in a cafe.

 

She meets him and she knows this is going to be love. Derek pokes at her every so often because of it. His smile twisted in a grin, because he knows she's falling in love with that guy with the cheesy briefcase. She tells him it's not cheesy though, it's masculine. He only laughs.

 

"You sound like a teen bopper."

 

She hardly even knows what that is, but she chooses to ignore it anyway. It hardly even matters, because she likes him and he's sweet. There's no more to it.

 

_(Izzy gets angry though, she hates Todd.)_

 

**::**

When Treats is in the works, Alex meets Izzy.

 

She's on stage when it happens, something unhinges inside of her and she feels that screw suddenly tighten. Her voice gets louder and she feels like she's found some kind of a calling. The fog disperses around her and no one sees her true awakening; no one sees her best friend step out of the cage for the first time.

 

Derek notices the sudden door slam, the sudden change in her expression. He says nothing though, but he smiles because he notices that she's found herself.

 

She's found her home.

 

He knows the struggle of time it took for her to sing that freely. He knows how long it took for some of the tape to rip off her wings—it's painful, he knows, he's done it—and he's proud. He knows she's got that something special, but he doesn't know what it is. He doesn't know who it is.

 

_(Izzy realizes she likes Derek that day.)_

 

**::**

 

The first time she drinks it's at a cheap bar.

 

Derek actually refuses to take her, so she goes alone and he follows anyway. He's got this taking care of her habit thing, and he knows no better. She's his friend, and his feet walk before he even gets a say. He stays, before he even decides to stay.

 

She makes fun of him for it.

 

He watches steadily, as he drinks his own beer away. The hazy lines of his visions are just the consequences of his thoughtless, incessant care for someone who doesn't need it. He doesn't even know why he cares about her so much. She's just so special.

 

She's really special, and he sees something glowing in her. He can't put his finger on it, because he can't even pick it up, but he knows when he sees something. It could be that, or just the alcohol getting to him.

 

_(Izzy smiles.)_

 

**::**

 

Her first fight with Todd is scary.

 

He didn't like how much time she was spending on her music. He felt like a wall to her eyes, and she supposedly hardly paid any attention to him. He wanted her home and it scared her, because in some subconscious part of her mind, she didn't want to be home.

 

She didn't want to spend all of her time home.

 

She liked singing and screaming and being on that stage that she had gotten used to so much. Especially since her screw was tight, her screw was tight!—and things felt like a really chilling rollercoaster ride. It felt like those rides back home, the ones her mom used to take her to. She liked that.

 

It scared her that she liked that more than she liked being with Todd.

 

In alarm, she tells Derek they should probably take a break after Treats, softly and briskly on the phone. He doesn't really see a problem with it.

 

( _Izzy does.)_

 

**::**

 

Reign of Terror starts and she starts drinking a lot more than she should.

 

Four. Six. Nine. Her head fogs and she starts to lose count. People urge her on and Todd doesn't seem to be here, because maybe he didn't come. She doesn't blame him and she definitely still loves him. He's the frosting to her Pop Tarts and somewhere along the lines maybe much more than that.

 

Thirteen.

 

Her drink clashes to the table and someone laughs. She laughs along, obscure and all, even when she sees the deep red gash in her hand. She's bleeding.

 

The sudden soft pat on her shoulder brings her to a stumbling turn, and she catches these big, black sunglasses. Derek. He's telling her something and she can't hear. She hears a beep and a loud ring in her head. Somehow she manages to nod, but he shakes his head in disbelief.

 

He says something again. _Home?_

 

 _Huh, home?_ Everything suddenly, slowly, goes black from there.

 

_(Izzy closes her eyes so Alex can't see.)_

 

**::**

 

The next morning she wakes up curled in pale sheets.

 

Her eyes sting from the night before and the sudden added brightness into her already clotted haze. She assumes she's back home, with her mom, and she's cooking her bacon with eggs and maybe a Pop Tart. The smell swirls in her head, surrounding. She imagines there's some serious delicious OJ in stock.

 

Her eyelashes flutter though, when she sees a pair of jeans cladding legs. She has no idea who that is.

 

He leans forward, with his sunglasses off and he shakes her hair scruffily. His smile stretches, when she gingerly grins tiredly back. She supposes it's better than waking up on the street.

 

"You were pretty bad last night." He mumbles, tilting his head. "I drew a picture of you sleeping, though. I think it's got that Vincent Van Gogh vibe." Her laugh bubbles in her throat when he says this. He's such a goof—and she doesn't really know how to thank him for that—and she's such a goof. When his hands clamper the picture in their grasp, they hold it aside his face and he smiles like a dorky kid. "It took me like twenty minutes, but I really took my time with it."

 

She giggles again, snatching the picture to her chest dramatically. "Oh, I'm so flattered."

 

_(This time it's not Izzy who feels her heart thump. It's Alex.)_

 

::

 

He draws her a lot, Alexis notices.

 

The pictures—the shapes—they're all about her. Don't get her wrong though, she finds them flattering and somehow sweet. They never fail to tug her lips upward whenever she sees them, especially the ones he does backstage. He takes at least ten minutes just to draw something for her and it makes her smile like an animated teen bopper.

 

His utensils aren't even that incredible either, but she still keeps the pictures anyway.

 

Briefly, one moment backstage, he hands her a picture. She knows it's her, not because it looks like her—his pictures are terribly proportioned—but because he draws a lot of pictures of her. Anyway, he hands her the picture, all sunglass and no eyes. "I just felt a little inspired."

 

She feels her smile tug up, at the same rate of her heart. "This is a very accurate picture, _wow_. I love the attention to my eyes."

 

He laughs, because he senses the dishonesty on her tongue, but it doesn't matter. He knows his drawings are pretty abysmal; it doesn't stop him from doing them though.

 

_(Izzy thinks Alex is finding one thing alike in common for once: Derek.)_

 

::

 

Todd takes her to dinner one evening.

 

It's chilly out and there are hundreds of heels tapping away. She dresses like Alex for once—a dress, no Keds—and it feels strangely unusual for her. She isn't used to the feeling of brightly colored clothes and heels that painfully clack against the street. She goes though, because she really loves Todd.

 

He hasn't been out with her in a long time and she just can't say no.

 

The whole evening they spend it catching up with each other and making it all smiles. He tells her jokes and she laughs, and somewhere in between, they interlock hands. Somewhere in between, Alexis remembers why she fell in love with him.

 

She just doesn't remember how the exact feeling felt. It's only very vague now; she loves him, for sure, but she's not sure she's in love with him like before. It's a speculation that she knows he's been thinking. If she can feel it, then he certainly can. She just doesn't say anything about it.

_(Izzy doesn't do anything this time. It's Alex.)_

 

**::**

 

Around the ending of 2011, Derek and Alexis get a 1989 VHS camera.

 

They film stuff and do stuff, and in the mix of all the videos, there's a lot more memories they can't even remember.

 

He films her singing and dancing, acting like a total goof. It makes him smile, because he feels exultant. She's everything he thought she would be and a total bubble of pixie dust. He doesn't necessarily know how to explain it, but she's like got this ambiance of effervescence and he bubbles up with it most of the time he's with her. She's something special.

 

Fundamentally, it's great for the music. She needs that energy, that surge of bliss onstage. Unfortunately, it's bad for him.

 

He's getting used to her and growing these invisible limbs that tie to her. In other words, he actually really likes her. Her—her soft, gentle voice and how it averts to deafening screams—and the energy she gives off to people. He likes it when she sings and when she jumps like a chump on camera. He likes the positive energy. He likes everything.

 

He likes her—in a platonic sense, of course.

 

_(Izzy already knows.)_

 

**::**

 

Her mother doesn't know what's up.

 

She calls and Alex speaks for only a longitude of five minutes. She leaves her texts and all she replies with are one worded answers. She e-mails her and all she gets is a sentence back. She feels like she's losing her daughter and  she means that in an all around sense. Her daughter, her friend, her most confided human being—all of them are disappearing slowly, one by one.

 

She worries, she worries she's going to lose her entirely.

 

She believed music to be the salvation of her daughter's vacancy. The reason her daughter smiled so big; the reason the colors in her cheeks changed. She was wrong though, for the first time, she wasn't right.

 

Her daughter's slowly going. Most of the time she doesn't even know if it is her daughter, she sees a gifted singer and an educated woman, and everything Alex was supposed to be, but not this. She sees the way her daughter is now, how one minute she's Alex and the next.

 

The next she’s . . . _someone else._

 

_(Izzy accidentally deletes Alex's mom off her phone that night.)_

 

::

 

Alex feels washed up.

 

She feels like she's sick. Her hair's falling and her fingers look dainty. The skin that once flashed red with a innocence gaze, flashes pale and sickly. Along the rims of her now purple, swollen eyes, she sees how she's changed. She sees how there doesn't seem to be that girl who knew nothing of the world.

 

Izzy makes her drink until she collapses. She forces her to sing until her throat stings. Izzy likes to drink coffee—sickeningly so—much more than she actually likes to drink beer. She doesn't even know if she’s capable of hating her though, because the girl _is_ a part of her. She just doesn’t know how to control her. Izzy swings by her own sets of rules and hardly cares if it does any damage to Alex so. She alters any sense of sanity and fogs the world around her, swirling it faster than Alex can swallow.

 

Her mom has stopped calling and she can’t even find her number anywhere anyway. Todd doesn't call either; she thinks they're over nevertheless by the looks of it, and her heart clenches every time she thinks about it. She would assume it's all her fault and that people are done with Izzy and how well she can play her like a violin, but that's not true. She's still Alex somewhere in there.

 

_And, Derek . . .?_

 

Derek still calls her and they still talk for hours about how well Reign of Terror did. He even talks about the most irrelevant things and how he still draws—despite how awful it really is. He still talks to her. He still talks to her and makes sure she's okay. He still cares about her more than he should. There are over twenty calls on her phone that are all titled _Derek_. He’s called her more than anyone recently—she doesn’t know how to thank him so.

 

He's her best friend. She loves him more than anyone. He's all she's got now.

 

[ _I've been listening to ABBA for like a week now_.]

 

The laugh that stifles her throat when she pries her iPhone is the first time she's laughed this week. Of course, he'd make her laugh all the time if he was here. She's even told him about Izzy. She’s told him how sometimes she doesn’t even have control of herself, because the other girl inside of her knows inside out; knows how to pull her strings. He knows everything about her. She knows everything about him. They talk until the sun goes down, so most of the time she even knows more about his grandmother than she knows about hers.

 

It's bizarre, but she's got something in him.

 

_(Izzy suddenly worries because not even she knows what it is.)_

 

**::**

 

Derek invites her for a beer, a beer, just _one_ beer.

 

She takes at least fifteen and he worries that she'll spin into a coma. Her body's already failing her and he had no idea things could get this bad. She told him she was a pretty bad drinker and he saw it firsthand. He just thought he'd be able to tell her to stop and that she would. She hasn't though.

 

She keeps chugging the gold drink and people eye her astonishingly.

 

He's one of them.

 

His hand lands on her shoulder after she stumbles harshly, earning a bloody gash on her thigh. The once Alex is morphing into that girl again; that frenzied insanity is coming back out. Derek knows she needs to stop now, before it's no longer Alex. "Alexis, come on. I'm taking you home." He mumbles, scratching his nose in apprehension, because he's never done this. He's never been this worried.

 

She doesn't say anything; she just shakes her head with a coy smile. The strands of her hair lay thinly beside her shoulder and he's never noticed, but she doesn't have that much hair like she used to.

 

"Alexis, come on." He pulls, this time with more force in his voice. His hand clasps around her arm, as he speaks.

 

She shakes her head again, her cheeks full of golden beer.

 

It's until she swallows it, that he realizes he's actually scared. He's tugging her arm and giving her a look of concern, but she doesn't budge. She's not herself; she's not Alex right now. He's not sure what to do about that, but he tells himself that if he doesn't help out, he'll be hurting himself. He has no idea why though.

 

"Alex, come on." He pulls finally, harsh enough to get her away from the bar. Her Keds scrape against the floor, as he yanks her arm towards the door frantically. He's never wanted to get out of a bar this bad. He’s always been those kinds of guys who spend at least seventy percent of their time in the bar and now he wants out.

 

The moment they step outside onto the sidewalk, Derek lets escape a huge breath.

 

She's still entranced by the beer in her hand, as she scrambles to get it behind her. But, he steps forward quickly and takes it like a candy from a child. It's delicious and he chugs it down in a second. Her eyes widen at the notion. He swallows and swallows, until the whole bottle finishes and his Adam's apple no longer bobs to the drink down his throat.

 

"You need to stop drinking." He finally says, resting his hand on his hip, as he stares at the bottle in his hand.

 

She's quiet, and he gets worried again.

 

Her stance moves and immediately, she heads towards the narrow alley right beside the bar. It's empty, full of newspapers on the ground, but nevertheless, he follows her. He knows she's not herself right now, he knows she sick to her stomach. He knows. He knows. He knows.

 

Unexpectedly, her back collides with the brick in a hazy, tumbling rush and he runs after her when he notices she's definitely not okay. _Man, he was an idiot for bringing her here._

 

"Alexis, Alexis," he tries, touching her back softly, "it's okay, alright? It's fine. It's not your fault. You're okay."

 

Her back moves and he notices she's crying. He feels a definite load of guilt hit his chest and it's a little ridiculous how it stings now. Her soft sniffles and the way her shoulder bops. It only makes him feel worse than he does, and he encloses his hand around her shoulder.

 

"Alex," he coaxed, " _Alex_ look at me."

 

She stops for a moment. Her shoulder tilts, and she whips her head around to catch his weak, vulnerable gaze. Her lips quiver to the soundness sniffles that escape and he never realized how beautiful she actually was. Or how much he actually liked her, he spent most of his time trying to write a song with her or play onstage. He hardly remembers a time he spent a full seven minutes just looking at her—he means, he definitely knew she was beautiful. He just never knew how great it was until his eyes rested on her for a second.

 

"Alex—Izzy. . .is it Izzy?" He starts, softly, his movements careful. He doesn't want to scare her. "It's okay, Izzy. You're alright. I like you, you're crazy and— _wow_ , I can’t believe I’m talking to you. You’re crazy and insane and incredible on stage, but—but I need you to let Alex go." He steps forward, gentle and short, not a single step she can catch. "I need you to let her go. . . _for me_."

 

It's a quiet beat, her eyes on his for what seems a long time. In the telling of his mind, he knows she probably won’t give him a chance, because he’s heard how Izzy is. All sanity aside, he knows how Izzy is. He’s seen the girl on stage and in the cups of beer Alex drinks. It isn’t a bombshell if the girl says no, so he doesn’t leave her side despite all the negatives. It’s a real surprise when she staggers forward and hugs him. Her face wet with old tears, eyes shut.

 

Derek clasps his hands through her hair, leaving soft imprints of kisses on her scalp. His fingers tread through her thin strands, rubbing them soothingly. The soft hitches of breath that he feels against his neck cool him. _She’s still here._ He only murmurs quiet words, ones that he promises, or sound like promises. "We'll do it together, just like Bonnie and Clyde. We'll stop together."

 

( _Izzy lets her go.)_

 

**::**

 

Bitter Rivals releases and things are different.

 

They've stopped drinking and he spends his afternoons eating more fruits and granola bars than he probably ever has in his life. His once nights of beer are now filled with water and canteens of spinach juice. He's not too excited about that, but it all has its ups and downs. He’d rather be doing all this crap, than seeing her through hell again. Besides, he’s got this really nice feeling even better things are about to come.

 

Alexis drinks tomato, carrot juice and somewhere between all that, they’ve started boxing. Together, just like he promised, and the music’s changed too.

 

Her mom figures she wasn't necessarily wrong. She had seen the twinkle of excitement in her daughter’s eyes; she just saw the wrong idea. Alexis did want something; she was dazzled with something. It just want wasn't a thing, it was someone. She was excited with— _about_ —someone. Her mom hadn't paid the most attention and she missed the tiny detail that had been standing across from her for a long while.

 

It's sent in the letter of a text.

 

[ _Mom. I'm think I found someone I want Dad to meet_.]

 

_(Izzy likes Derek, so she'll back off for a while.)_

 


End file.
